Zeke hammered his fists into the golden dragon, sending out showers of coins spraying in every direction. Even as his knuckles bloodied from the impact, he shoved divine energy into [Hand of Divinity], supercharging the healing effect. It was unnecessary for such small scratches and fractures, but with the thrill of battle surging through him, Zeke acted more on instinct than by virtue of rational thought.

  By this point, he’d spent years – perhaps even decades – honing his ability to utilize divine energy, so it came to him like a second nature, ripping through his body, destroying, strengthening, and repairing him all in quick succession. His entire being was in constant flux, but somehow, he held himself together even amidst the whirlwind of his own making.

  The dragon could say no such thing.

  Beneath the fury of his battle lust, the gargantuan embodiment of greed could do nothing. Certainly, it tried. It attacked him, slicing through him with scythe-like waves of pure, molten gold. However, its power was no match for the divine energy-fueled regeneration flowing through Zeke’s body.

  Still, Zeke’s attacks were not powerful enough to end the battle easily or quickly. Perhaps if he’d had his skills – and especially if they were fueled by divine energy – he could have made easy work of the monster. Yet, he lacked access to those hard-won abilities, and so, he had nothing but his natural weapons, which he brought to bear to devastating effects.

  At first, Zeke confined his efforts to simple punches. With such a large opponent, he couldn’t miss, and in his heady state, he couldn’t have cared less what he hit, so long as he got to hit something. That went on for some time, and the echoing wails of pain his attacks elicited from the dragon were like music to his ears. They were especially pleasing when combined with the tinkling of coins as they hit the ground, creating true music that he found incredibly gratifying.

  Still, Zeke hadn’t descended so deep into his battle lust that he recognized a losing proposition. He could hammer away at the dragon’s golden body for years, and he wouldn’t make much progress in bringing it down.

  But it would be satisfying.

  Despite that, he harnessed what reason he could find within his mind and focused on winning the battle. To that end, he searched for vulnerabilities. The first target was the dragon’s eyes, but those gem-like orbs were no more susceptible to attack than anywhere else on the monster’s body.

  So, Zeke roamed across the creature’s body, constantly attacking and being attacked. He lost count of how many times he was subjected to those scythes of molten gold or showers of bullet-like gems that descended upon him with such velocity that they tore holes entirely through his torso. Each attack was countered by the inexhaustible supply of divine energy within him. [Hand of Divinity] had always been a powerful skill that utilized that power. Now, it had taken a step forward, and the results were absolutely magnificent.

  Zeke put it to the test. Peppered with holes and cut to pieces, he forged ahead, and his skill pushed his body back together. If he’d been of rational mind, he would have wondered just how much of him needed to remain for him to heal. A single cell? An atom? Perhaps all that was needed was his soul.

  Regardless of the answers to those questions, Zeke’s only concern was waging what seemed an endless war on the dragon. Eventually, its wails of pain turned to begging. It pleaded with him to leave it alone, offering rewards up to including all of its accumulated wealth.

  But what use did Zeke have for gold or gems?

  He only cared about battle. And eventually, that was what the dragon gave him. At some point, the travelers returned and, seeing their god – for that was what the dragon had become to them – being steadily dismantled by a madman, leaped into the fray. Zeke met their efforts to defend their god with distinctive joy, felling the weakest of them with a single blow.

  Some, however, had not reached the Circle of Greed by accident, and they displayed power on a level Zeke had rarely seen. Huge storms of wind and water, fire and ice, blades and spears raged all around him. Zeke never even bothered to count how many times he was ripped to pieces. It didn’t matter, because with the engine of divine energy roaring through him, he could keep going through anything.

  Death simply could not claim him.

  He fought an endless parade of enemies, but in every moment of respite, he went back to his primary task. Still, he found no weaknesses. The only way to slay the dragon was to tear it apart, coin by coin, shattering gems and other precious metals along the way.

  So, that was what Zeke did.

  It too had some degree of power over its own regeneration, though. For every two chunks he destroyed or dislodged, another healed, making his task all the more difficult.

  At some point, the travelers stopped coming – either because they lacked the numbers or courage, Zeke wasn’t entirely certain. It didn’t matter, though. In his mind, all that mattered was the joy of destruction. The lust for battle. The power of dominating his enemy and leaving nothing but a corpse behind.

  But that end goal continued to elude him, and frustratingly so. That resulting irritation only added to his fury, building upon it until there was little else left in his mind. He didn’t simply want to kill his enemies. He needed it. He craved it on such a deep level that…

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  It was greed, only of a different sort than a lust for wealth.

  Zeke’s thoughts wavered at that revelation, and his body slowed. That was a mistake, because it allowed the dragon to throw him free. Even as he sailed through the air – clearing at least a mile before landing among the gold-strewn terrain – he realized that he had fallen prey to the very thing that he’d vowed to resist.

  He wasn’t vulnerable a need for gold or gems. He didn’t care for material things. But his lust for battle – it represented a different facet of greed. Even when it was the wrong choice, and objectively so, Zeke went out of his way to get a decent fight. That pervasive selfishness was the backbone of greed, and he’d fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker.

  Zeke picked himself up and pieced himself back together. Now that the spell was broken, he found cycling the divine energy that much more difficult. The torrent of healing he’d found so simple during the battle was now barely the trickle to which he’d grown accustomed during his previous treks through the various circles of hell.

  Was there something there? Was he simply thinking too much to truly utilize such awesome power?

  Perhaps.

  But then again, succumbing to that same state was too dangerous to contemplate, even if it might offer him the opportunity for growth. So, it was with his mind entirely intact that he strode forward.

  The battle with the dragon had devastated the city known as the Vault. Most buildings had been reduced to rubble, and what few remained were badly damaged. Every so often, Zeke saw movement suggesting that some of the travelers had managed to survive, but those moments were fleeting and easily dismissed. The travelers, for all that they’d put up a decent collective fight, were beneath his notice.

  Instead, Zeke only had eyes for the dragon, which remained perched atop its pit, ready for his return.

  And when it saw him, it wore a smug smile – if a dragon made of gold coins and gems could even manage such an expression. Still, Zeke found it infuriating, and he very nearly launched himself back into the battle. He restrained himself, though.

  “You return? May we continue our descent into battle-born depravity, then?” it asked in a vastly different voice than the one it had used in the beginning. It was deeper and somehow more melodic. Enticing, even. And it carried with it a thrum of energy – mana or Will, he didn’t know – that latched onto his mind.

  He clamped down on it with ruthless effort fueled by divine energy.

  “You will not manipulate me.”

  “Ah, so you believe,” the dragon said, spreading its wings to cast the entire destroyed city into deep shadow. “Perhaps, so you hope. Even now, do you not dance to my tune, little traveler? That divine energy coursing through you will not save you from my influence. Come, fight me. Relish in the battle and claim your victory, if you can. I challenge you. Should you refuse, I shall besmirch your honor and call you a coward.”

  Zeke seethed.

  He’d always counted it a point of pride that he never ran from battle. Others had, and for good reason. Logic told him that he should have done the same on plenty of occasions. Yet, he always moved forward, forging through each battle like he had no other choice.

  So, the dragon’s words were well chosen to elicit the response it so obviously desired.

  Still, Zeke would not succumb, now that he knew what was happening. The struggle against the monster’s influence was a fight not unlike any other, though the circumstances were not traded blows and blood and guts, but rather set in the landscape of his mind.

  “You need not resist. You wish to fight, and I cannot stop you.”

  “No,” Zeke said.

  “No?” it asked, incredulous at the simple word.

  “I don’t want to fight you.”

  “That is a lie. I can feel your need. I can feel the greed for battle flowing through you,” it said, lowering its head. Its sinuous neck moved like a snake.

  “Oh, I definitely want a fight, just not with you,” Zeke countered. “Or rather, not with this…thing. I want to fight your puppeteer. Your master. Whatever you want to call them. That’s the only fight worth having.”

  “I have no master.”

  “Liar.”

  The dragon stared at him, its expression unreadable as it clearly tried to figure out what to do about Zeke. It couldn’t simply eat him. Zeke had proven that he was practically immune to any efforts at destruction it could throw his way. And Zeke refused to give in and fight.

  Finally, the light went out in its eyes, and it suddenly fell apart into a shower of coins. They all ended up in the pit, even if gravity dictated they should have hit the ground outside. Then, the sound of laughter touched upon Zeke’s ears.

  At first, it was barely noticeable, but after only a few moments, it became a booming sound that shook the remains of the city. Then, at last, the owner of that laugh appeared.

  A man, clad in so much jewelry that Zeke wondered how he could even move, floated above the pit. He had multiple rings on every finger, dozens of golden chains around his neck, and a crown so tall and heavy that it should have broken his neck. And yet, his posture was straight, and he looked down on Zeke with a sneer.

  “You wish to fight me? I am a god, you pitiful insect. You can not –”

  Zeke didn’t care what the man had to say. In fact, now that he was visible, all he really wanted was to beat that smug look off his face. So, he threw himself forward with so much velocity that the self-styled god had no opportunity to react. Zeke hit the enemy in a shoulder tackle that should have broken every bone in the bejeweled god’s body.

  He barely moved an inch, though.

  “Pitiful,” he growled, grabbing hold of Zeke and ripping both of his arms off.

  But by that point, the battle lust had once again overcome Zeke’s deficiencies concerning the use of divine energy, and he reformed both arms in less than an instant. He used those arms to pummel the god’s face.

  “Honestly, this is –”

  Finally, Zeke managed to draw blood. It took the harnessing of every ounce of strength he possessed, coupled with a flex of the concept itself to do so, but he did it nonetheless.

  It sent at thrill through him unlike anything he’d ever felt.

  Before him was a self-styled god. Even if the man didn’t reach the technical parameters of such a being, he was far and away more powerful than any creature Zeke had ever fought.

  And he’d managed to hurt him.

  That was enough to cement his path. Of course, the bejeweled man didn’t react well to his own blood loss, and he attacked Zeke with all the fury of a petulant child who’d had his favorite toy confiscated. And with his power, he ripped Zeke into so many pieces that, by all accounts, he should have ceased to exist.

  And yet, he reformed and threw himself back at the bejeweled man.

  He may not have been capable of overcoming that sin, but in his mind, he didn’t have to, either. His greed for battle would outweigh whatever the self-styled god of greed could manifest.